


kill the lights

by dabihawkss



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, M/M, Mpreg, i'm stupid and wanted to write this, trans!klaus, ummmm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18323486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabihawkss/pseuds/dabihawkss
Summary: Sometimes the cosmic forces in the universe give you good things, and sometimes they don't.





	kill the lights

Klaus is messy. Klaus can't keep a job. Klaus never learned how to control himself when he drinks. Despite all of that -- despite how much of a disaster he is, despite how desperately pathetic and lonely and *sad* that he is -- Dave loves Klaus, for everything that he is and everything that he isn't, and Klaus knows he'll never find anyone this good, this pure, this *beautiful* ever again in his entire life.

Sometimes the cosmic forces in the universe give you good things, and sometimes they don't, but Dave is a miracle that saved him from hitting his twentieth overdose, and he doesn't even *care* about all of the times he said he'd never fuck a soldier, never be with someone that would defend the mockery of their country, but shit happens, and here he is. 

Dave loves him -- loves *him,* and he can hardly fucking believe it, can't believe it even when Dave's balls deep inside of him, even when Dave's slow dancing with him to some sixties song in the middle of his living room, sings Elvis to him and makes him feel like he's on top of the fucking world.

Sometimes the cosmic forces in the universe give you bad things, and Klaus is about to learn just how quickly he can turn a situation around if he has to.

xxx

The first sign is that his nipples hurt. They ache, and not in a good way -- Klaus is fine with getting his nipples played with, but he can't even graze his arms against them without wincing in pain; and then, one morning, he wakes up -- totally sober, mind you, he's been good at keeping that up for a while -- and leans over the side of the bed, promptly hurling everything in his stomach onto the carpet. Again, this isn't *unusual* behavior for Klaus, but he's *sober* right now, hasn't touched anything in *weeks* (besides weed. and cigarettes. and a little bit of coke at that one party. but that's it! he swears.)

The third sign, the most pivotal one, is that he's so tired he can't get even get out of bed -- not even when Dave orders copious amounts of alfredo from that one pizza place down the block, they have the best hangover food -- and this goes on for about four days before Dave demands that he go to the doctor, hell, not even the doctor, fucking express care works -- but Klaus is not a fan of the doctor, with the poking and prodding and the constant looks that silently call him a junkie. 

Dave's upset he won't go; says that it could be something bad, something he caught before they were together that didn't even manifest until now, and that argument ends with Klaus slamming the bedroom door, and his boyfriend doesn't even sleep in his own bed, instead on the couch. 

He kind of knows what's up when he wakes up and vomits for the fifth day in a row. It's some sort of second sense, this weird feeling he can't shake, and he sneaks out when Dave's in the shower, books it to the Walgreens on the corner, steals what he needs (and a bag of skittles for good measure), comes back to the apartment within ten minutes, and Dave is none the wiser. 

It's a good thing they all learned how to sneak out this early on. 

He doesn't even do what he has to do at the apartment; he goes back to the mansion, crawls in through an unlocked window (ever since their dad died, the security around the place has been a little lax), and he's relieved that the only person he sees is his mother, who welcomes him (despite the fact that it's two in the morning) with her usual robotic grin and wave, which Klaus returns, scurrying around the corner -- and, of course, he promptly bumps right into the chest of his oldest brother, the huge, hairy, apeish chest of Luther Hargreeves, and Klaus just crookedly grins up at him.

Spaceboy is *not* amused. Luther plainly sees the box in his hand, snatches it from him, and Klaus stands there, dumbly -- he can't even protest, who the fuck is gonna protest against Luther, he's fucking seven feet tall and his fists feel like cinderblocks (and Klaus knows what cinderblocks feel like, he's been beaten up enough times.)

"... " Luther stands there, looking at him as if almost in disgust; throws the box on the ground, leaving Klaus to scrabble and snatch up the plastic off the floor, protesting with a "what the fuck, du -- " before Luther calmly tells him to shut the hell up.

"You know this is *your* problem?" and Klaus just looks at him, nods, and Luther keeps staring down at him stonily. "I hope you're not coming here running for help. No one is going to rai -- "

"I *know*," Klaus says, plainly, "you don't have to tell me twice." Luther keeps staring at him, stares back at the floor, strides down the hallway like the huge fucking behemoth of a man that he is -- but he stops, right at the doorway, turns to look at Klaus.

"I can't believe you could even consider this. Knowing what kind of responsibility is on our shoulders. I can't, Klaus."

Klaus says nothing, and when the stick shows two blue lines, he throws up.

xxx

Dave was *thrilled.* Klaus knew he would be; knew that that big dumb puppy (said fondly) would be nothing less than *ecstatic* when Klaus told him he was pregnant. He crushed him in a hug, swung him around in circles in the living room; Klaus laughed, accepted the flurry of kisses brought his way, ended up throwing up again when he got dizzy.

He had the first appointment, already -- he didn't know that they stuck a probe inside of you that early, he was always under the assumption that you got the gel smeared on your stomach or something -- got to hear their baby's heartbeat, the fast, little rapid thump thump (it sounds like a horse galloping, Klaus thinks), got to see the tiny, strawberry sized kiddo inside of him.

It was odd. Really odd. There's an entirely new creature inside of him, a human being that *he's* responsible for (and it is him, he thinks, it'll always primarily be him, even if he and Dave broke up, the courts always side with the parent that birthed the child, but he is a former prostitute-addict-homeless person, so he doesn't know how well that'll go), and it's wigging him out that it has a heartbeat, a little tiny wriggly blob that will eventually become a person with likes and dislikes and a *soul,* and he's caught up all of a sudden, because he's been in his room at the mansion (he hangs out there just as much as the rest of them, usually when Dave is at work) looking at his ultrasound photos in a big manila envelope, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

He's convinced it's Luther, but it's Diego -- and he sighs, slaps at his arm, calls him a dickhead, and Diego just points at the pictures. 

"Mind telling me what those are?"

Klaus just blinks, and he knows he looks stupid.

"Man... are you high? I knew, I already fucking knew, Luther told me all about you coming in here last month and -- "

"*Fuck* Luther," Klaus drawls, and he tosses the envelope onto Diego's lap. "There's your niece or nephew. They've got working arm joints and also give me this thing called round ligament pain. Fucking sucks. Feels like I pulled the muscles in my stomach, but inside."

"That's enough," and Diego takes them, looks at them, and Klaus swears he can see what looks like longing in his eyes, some sort of what could have been, but he shakes his head, pushes it down, and Diego just makes a small sound.

"Looks like a blob."

"No, no, look, here -- "

And it's a nice day for Klaus, after all.

xxx

Allison's apartment is *so* much nicer than a halfway house, Klaus thinks, as he flops back on the king sized guest bed -- a fucking king sized guest bed? Is she fucking joking? -- and idly lays his hands on his belly, poking and prodding at what is now an obvious bump. 

Well, it's not *too* obvious, only if he wears tight clothes and isn't covering up with a coat, but it's *there* and it's *real* and he can't even keep thinking about this, because as soon as the nausea stopped, his hormones kicked into high gear, and the only thing Klaus can even think about is sex.

Dave's on a work trip for the rest of the week, so he's not fucking anyone in particular, and he eyes up one of Allison's body pillows for a second, before the door opens and he sits up, abruptly, because even if he's not doing it now, he's used to doing shady shit that gets him caught up, so it's an instinctive reaction. His shirt's messed up, rolls up his stomach just a little bit, and he can tell that Allison sees the swell before he yanks his shirt down.

"I'm not doing heroin in your apartment again. Promise, Allie."

She scoffs, rolls her eyes, sits down on the bed next to him.

"Nobody said you were doing *heroin,* Klaus," and she smiles a little, her eyes drawn to where one of his hands is idly on his belly, protective for next to no reason, but that feels instinctual, too. 

There's an odd silence, and she swings her feet a little, before she laughs some, breaches the gap. "You're showing? Like. Showing showing?"

Klaus nods, pulls his shirt up a little without thinking, and Allison makes the smallest of sounds, reaches her hand out without thinking, before pulling it back.

"Christ, I'm sorry, that's so rude, and that's coming from someone who was actually pregnant before -- "

Klaus takes her hand, wordlessly, presses it to his belly, and though nothing's moving inside yet, Allison still *smiles.* 

"He's really there," she breathes out, and Klaus nods; all of a sudden, his throat's dry, he feels fear pricking at the corners of his mind, but he thinks of Dave, Dave and his big frame and big arms and that outdated cologne, and it brings him back down to reality, calms him a little, and Klaus sighs.

"Yeah. Isn't it crazy? Whole ass little minnow, swimmin' around in there... "

"I think it's *beautiful,*" Allison says, quietly, and tears spring to the corner of Klaus' eyes.

xxx

He has his second ultrasound, and Klaus declines to find out what the baby is -- he wants it to be a surprise, and besides, there are too many societal expectations put onto people anyway concerning sex and gender. Whatever his kid is, it's fine by him.

Dave puts the ultrasound photos on the fridge, on the bedside table, at his work desk, everywhere he can; Klaus thinks it's adorable, and it makes his heart swell that somebody can actually love him *that* much. 

He's at the halfway point, now, and so far, things have been a breeze -- the only thing that bothers him is the *discharge,* it's fucking *everywhere,* it's gross, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it -- and there's the shortness of breath, too, because everything is being pushed up in quick order, even though he's only four months pregnant. 

The bump's bigger, too; he's gained ten pounds, which was a Big Fucking Deal for Klaus Hargreeves, but Dave had quickly calmed him down (and Allison, who said by this point in her own pregnancy, she'd gained twenty five, and it had all went to her face, which had made Klaus check himself out frantically in the mirror), and he knows it's not a big deal, doctors told him he'd be gaining a pound (maybe two) a week at this point, and Klaus really is starting to realize how much of a toll this is going to take on his body by the time it's over.

He's home alone, again, and he can't really take much more of watching the same star wars movies over and over again -- he can't even take a walk, it's December, and it's snowing like hell outside. He changes to TLC, watches some episode of a baby story (he can't imagine being trapped in a dorm room during a blizzard and giving birth; he thinks he'd rather die), turns that off halfway through and rolls onto his side, staring at the ticking clock. Maybe he can actually take a nap? The heartburn bothers him every time he lays down, and he's out of the prescription antacids the doctor gave him, doesn't want to take regular ones out of fear that something might happen.

Klaus resigns himself to trying to take a nap, and it's just when he's gotten himself tucked under the covers, ceiling fan on low and tv even lower, that there's the oddest feeling -- it's like gas, but not; it kind of reminds him of the feeling that you get right before a plane lands, or when you get onto a rollercoaster, right before the drop -- and it happens again, and again, and Klaus sits up, pulls his shirt up, presses his hands to his stomach to focus. 

Ah.

The baby's moving.

Wait -- the baby's been moving. He just couldn't feel it.

And now he can.

His eyes get as big as dinner plates, but he doesn't freak out; tries to stay calm, because he wants to feel it again. 

Feel it again he does, and he gets up, pulls his shirt up below his chin, stares at himself in the mirror, runs his hands over his stomach, texts Dave a picture with no caption.

xxx

"Fiiiiiiiveeee," Klaus whines, trailing after his younger brother in the hallway. "Come feel the baby kickkkkkkkkkk," and Five just reacts with a sound of disgust, shuts his door, and Klaus walks in right behind him, sits on the bed, grabs his hand, and Five snatches it back.

"Don't grab me like a child -- "

"But you *are* a child!" and he takes Five's hand again, presses it right above his navel, and Five entertains the idea until a swift kick's felt against his palm, and he takes it back, shakes it like he touched something that clung to his skin. 

"Okay. Cool. There's your little parasite, how cute," and Klaus hits him with a pillow, which causes the both of them to get into a mild wrestling match on the bed, one that Klaus breaks up when he gets an elbow to the side of his stomach. 

"God, Five, you're such a dick!" and he rubs the side of his stomach, murmuring a little to the life within; Five sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry at him.

"Good, and I don't care."

There's silence for a while, and Five breaks it eventually, clearing his throat and looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.

"... are you sleeping any better? I can give you some of the meds dad made, you know they're safe for anyone, regardless of pregnancy -- "

Klaus shakes his head, but it warms his heart that his little brother cares enough to offer him their father's sketchy prescription meds.

"No, no, dearest little brother, I'm fine -- "

Five hits him again.

xxx

Ben is really Klaus' rock. More than Dave, more than himself, more than the magical three pm powers of daytime talkshows -- Ben is the one who has kept him sane when Dave is away at work, when he and Luther are arguing about some bullshit again, when he and Allison get into a fight because yeah, he threw up on her bedside table and left it there, but he's *pregnant,* cut him some fucking slack!

He's thirty weeks, today, and he's actually pretty fucking over it. The heartburn kills him; he feels like, without his meds, he can't even drink *water* without it coming back up. He can't get comfortable at night, it's impossible to sleep, and when Dave's not home, it's even worse, because their child likes to have mini raves inside of him every night, and Klaus does *not* appreciate it -- and never mind the swelling, the general all over discomfort, the shortness of breath, because *god,* everything is up in his ribs now and sometimes he can feel the baby just wedging their foot up there and it genuinely honestly makes him want to *die.*

But back to the matter at hand.

He's been practicing for a while, now; because this is important to him, and even though Ben is there *all the time,* he's not corporeal, he's a fucking ghost, and Klaus really, really wants to channel his brother so he can feel his niece or nephew kick.

This is important to him; they've all felt it (except Luther, but who needs Luther), and he's sitting on the edge of the bed, focusing inside himself, feeling the pins and needles, tv static, rising up his arms -- and it hits a peak, and it feels like a lightbulb's gone off inside his head.

"Ben?"

"Right here," and Ben's on the other side of the bed, reading a book, flipping through the pages mindlessly.

"Ben, c'mere for a sec."

So he does; comes over to Klaus, looks at him, makes a face when he sees Klaus' stomach shift towards him a little, and Klaus smiles, because of course the baby somehow knows their uncle Ben is there. 

"Gimme your hands."

Ben looks at him flatly, and Klaus mutters sorry, waves his hands over the spot he wants Ben at. "Hover them here."

Ben does that, too; Klaus closes his eyes, and he feels them rolling back in his head, and he *knows* he'll have a headache later -- but that same feeling, like a lightbulb, goes off, and when he comes back into it, he kind of foggily mutters "Put your hands there. You can."

Ben's shocked; Klaus hasn't channeled him in a *while,* it's exhausting, but his hands feel real, and he smiles widely when he feels the warmth of his brother's skin underneath of his hands, feels the shifting under his skin, and the baby picks up in its movement as Ben twitches his fingers against Klaus.

"Holy shit, Klaus? That's... "

"Fucking amazing, right?" Klaus pokes his belly a little, gets the kiddo moving, and just watches as the baby presses right into Ben's hands.

xxx

Klaus is horrible at packing. Period. It doesn't matter if it's for a trip, or for a vacation, or even for something that's potentially life threatening -- he always waits until the last minute, and that's where he is now, on his littlest sister's apartment floor, folding clothes awkwardly over the planet his stomach's become in the last five weeks.

There's no denying he's pregnant, now; his stomach's clearly housing life inside, and he winces at a sharp kick to his ribs, palming the top of his belly and making general noises of discomfort. "Owwww, kid, why are you like thisssss?"

Vanya's made tea; she brings it to him, sits it on the coffee table, gestures to his mug, which he takes and drinks a little too eagerly, practically burning himself in the process. Within ten minutes, he has to pee, and it's a struggle getting him off of the floor -- he's six foot, and Vanya's about five one -- and he's at least glad that she offered to help him pack, because Dave's being too touchy feely, and he's sensitive, now, in a bad way. 

So, Vanya's house it is. Her apartment's the least embellished of any of them (well. not his old one), and he idly peers at the pictures crookedly hanging on the walls, the wallpaper peeling, the sink still dripping even after he turns it off. God, Vanya lives in a shithole, but he realizes, after the book, after the financial cut off (besides her medical insurance), that this is all she could have. He wishes he could help her, and he's interrupted by another kick, hissing through his teeth and pressing his hands to the small of his back.

He and Vanya don't talk much; they never have, and it's not even that they don't have anything in common -- it's just that Vanya prefers the silence, prefers the heady comfort of enjoying someone's company in peace, and Klaus can't really blame her. Other than Ben, she's always been the one he feels most at peace with, and a few minutes after he settles on the couch, he looks at her, tilts his head a little.

"You wanna help me fold the clothes? I know that was like, my only job, but you know how bad I am at starting shit and not finishing."

Vanya smiles, her typical toothless, light one, and she nods.

"Yeah. Give me the socks."

xxx

Forty weeks is *not* amazing. Klaus feels like a whale, feels like everything is stretched and aching and hurts in all the worst ways, and he alternates between clinging to Dave and just wanting his boyfriend to get the fuck away from him. He's antsy; they both know it, and Klaus spends much of his day pacing around the apartment, picking at food, not really interested in anything but ways to get this kid out of him.

Sex is out of the question; they'd tried, that and nipple stimulation, and it got to be too awkward, and Dave just felt bad that it wasn't working -- Klaus still got an orgasm out of it, in another way, but nothing happens, and it frustrates the hell out of him. 

He's in one of his clingy moods, now; he won't leave Dave alone, he's pressed up to his side as Dave watches some anime about these superhero kids, and Klaus laughs a little, because all of the characters seem so hopeless but relatable at the same time. His hand's at the bottom of his belly, and Dave's is plastered onto the side. It's cute, really, sweet that Dave loves the baby so much -- Dave talks to him all the time, got Klaus a pregnancy pillow so he could sleep on his stomach, pushes his shirt up and kisses goodnight every night before they go to bed -- and he feels the baby push against Dave's hand, trying to stifle a groan from the change in pressure.

Dave, god bless him, presses his hand into Klaus' hip instead, and he could practically *purr* with how good the counterpressure feels.

"Mm, Davey, keep doing that," he whines, settling back into him more, and Dave is the most *wonderful* listener, rubs Klaus' other hip with his free hand, and Klaus lets his head loll backwards, looking up at Dave lazily.

"I love you," he says, softly, and Dave dips his head to kiss him, squeezes his hip, and Klaus makes a soft noise, nips at his jaw a little before shifting over into his lap, leaning his head back into his shoulder.

"You know, I've got you to thank for all of this. Not just -- not just him or her, but everything. Getting sober, being happier, learning how to love -- *everything.* And no matter how much I bitch and moan about this, I want you to know I will never, ever regret it, okay? I'm happy to have your baby, I love him so fucking much -- I love you, I love *you* so fucking much, and there's nobody I'd rather be doing this with -- " 

He starts to blubber a little, and Dave wipes at Klaus' face.

"I love you, too," Dave says, simply and fondly, presses what feels like hundreds of kisses to his face, settles his hands on top of his belly.

xxx

The sounds Klaus is making are honestly kind of scary -- Dave's been through some shit, but nothing like *this,* and he knows he wouldn't have been able to keep his composure if Kate hadn't been in the room with them -- Ben, too, because he's apparently done a fuck of a lot better job at calming Klaus down over anyone else. 

Kate's still on the floor, holding his legs open; she's gotten him to move back some, but this position isn't really working for her, and once there's a lull in contractions, she practically snatches Dave off of the bed, gets him positioned behind Klaus on their bedroom floor, literally hands him one of his legs -- Dave's mad Ben can't hold the other one, but Kate easily hooks his leg over her shoulder; this works better, and she can see what's going on -- speaking of what's going on, Dave can tell just by her face that there's obviously *something* making its way out of Klaus.

"Good, Klaus, you're doing good. Push when your body tells you to. I'm not counting for you, okay?" Dave's kind of glad she's not; having someone yell to ten in your face isn't much fun, whether it's in the military or if you're giving birth on your bedroom floor. Klaus makes a noise that sounds like he's getting torn apart, and Dave winces, but he's quickly chin to chest, silent as he pushes, and when he's finished, his head just falls back onto Dave's chest, and then there's a *stream* of curse words in at least four languages before the urge overtakes him again.

Half an hour ticks by slowly -- at least Klaus is making progress, and at one point, Kate takes his hand, lets him feel the baby's head, which results in a flurry of exhausted tears for a moment before she gets him back on track. Dave discovers that crowning is probably the worst part of labor -- Klaus is *yelping* by this point, scrabbling back against Dave, and Dave's reminded of the stories Klaus has told him about how he was locked in the mausoleum, pressing himself into the corner and screaming for hours on end as spirits taunted him -- and all Klaus repeats for the next fifteen minutes are variations of "fuck, holy fuck, this fucking *burns* jesus christ she's ripping me apart -- " to which Kate reassures him that the baby is not, and she wants to tell him he's being *mad* dramatic, but she knows better than to do that while her friend is in the throes of labor. 

Klaus, meanwhile, meant every word of what he said -- this kid feels like it's stretching every single amount of soft tissue down there, it's like a fucking bowling ball that's on *fire* and jt's ripping him apart, this is worse than detox, worse than overdosing, worse than withdrawing, and *jesus* does he want a fucking cigarette --

and suddenly, the burning is over, and it feels like something has just... suddenly popped out of him. His hand reaches down by impulse, and there it is -- the head, his *baby's* head, and he laughs, half hysterically, half from relief, and Kate pats his leg. "You got a brunette, dude. But the shoulders aren't out yet; c'mon." He hears Dave murmur something to him in his ear; ignores it completely, but he appreciates the sentiment. 

The shoulders are vastly different; they're broader, and he's vaguely wondering the fuck he conceived a child with someone that was so fucking *ripped* from years in the service, but he can't focus, because the pains are coming, and the urge to push is stronger than ever. Now it *really* feels like the kid is splitting him open, he feels like he can feel all of the baby's individual bones just *grinding* against him, and he knows he's yelling into the pain, doesn't care if they get noise complaints from how shrill his voice is.

Klaus has been through a lot in his life -- being part of a child team of superheroes, losing Ben, losing countless amounts of friends and lovers alike -- and it feels like every emotion at once is welling up inside of his chest, hot like a fire; he knows Kate is telling him to push, Dave and Ben both murmuring softly to him at different times, and he thinks he's at the end, now. The end of what, he doesn't know, but he's *tired,* fucking *exhausted,* and he's really ready to throw the towel in, tell Kate to just take him to the hospital, they can cut this thing out of him -- but sudden determination awakens something deep, deep inside of him, that feral parental instinct, and he curls forward, eyes shut tight, and he's *yelling*, hasn't yelled this loud in, well, shit, probably *ever* -- and his ears just start to ring, his head feels like it's full of cotton, he's empty, he's finally fucking *empty* for once, the last nine months have just been him being too full of *everything* -- and there's the baby. Right on his chest. 

It's slippery, and wet, and slimy and all the other adjectives you would use to describe a newborn, and Klaus' hands scrabble at his child, bringing them closer to his face, and he *bursts* into exhausted tears, just looking manically from Ben to Dave to Kate and back down at the baby. He can't even bring himself to talk for a moment; Kate's busy down there, and he doesn't even care what she's doing, and when he finally speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. He hears Dave crying behind him, and he whips his head to look at Ben; hell, even Ben's eyes are shiny with tears. Klaus just murmurs "oh my god, hi! hi, look at you!" and that's all he can really think to say, just variations of that over and over, and eventually starts to wipe the baby off on his chest, ties the cord when it stops pulsing in a few minutes, and she raises her eyebrows, looks up at the both of them. "You've got a little boy, by the way. Definitely not your little princess, but, hey. Whatever works."

xxx

Their son is beautiful. He's the most beautiful thing Klaus has ever done, with his dark hair (not as dark as his; it's that medium brunette that Dave has, but their baby has Klaus' eyes, those bright, bright eyes that are so common in the Hargreeves children) and his little face and his chubby cheeks and god, when he fucking *smiles* Klaus feels like he's about to lift off of the ground with how happy he is. 

Dave's the best dad; he's cuddly and snuggly and doesn't care that Klaus wanted the baby to sleep with them, doesn't even care that he has to take the midnight feedings, stays up all night with him and makes sure Klaus is okay, too, and he feels like this is his first step towards a normal life, no more Umbrella Academy, no more *anything* that's horrible and stressful and bad, just Dave and Klaus and their *baby,* their *son,* and it doesn't even matter that Luther's only seen him once -- he has two aunts and three uncles that love him very, very much, and two fathers who would certainly raise hell if anything so much as even scratched him.

He's tucked into bed with him, Ben, their little Benny boy (Klaus insisted on the name; Dave had absolutely no complaints); he's just eaten, and Klaus peppers his little head with kisses, inhales his scent (why the fuck do babies smell so *good?*), rests his forehead gently and lightly on his son's, only lifting his head when Dave crawls next to him on the bed.

"Hey."

"Hi," Klaus says, quietly, and for once, he feels like all the cosmic forces in the universe finally have things going his way.

**Author's Note:**

> this is written for my lovely friend kai, who is one of the few people that keep me sane on a daily basis ♥️
> 
> (notes to reader: kate is a friend of a friend of klaus', she's their doula! kind of an umbrella academy oc, kind of not!)


End file.
